Nobody's Secret Part 18

Henry grinned. "He always had a wicked sense of humor."

"He's not the wicked one here, Henry," Emily snapped. "Mr. Wentworth, your story is missing an ending. How did Mr. No-James die?"

Sam lifted his shoulders. "I don't know. He pulled out a flask and we drank to his miraculous resurrection."

Emily nodded; she remembered that flask.

"A few minutes later, he clutched his chest and began to stagger about."

"He was poisoned!" Emily cried.

"No, he couldn't have been. I drank some of the wine first," Sam protested.

"Wine?" Emily leapt on the word. "Are you sure it wasn't brandy?"

He nodded. "I'm sure. I took a healthy swallow. It was elderberry wine. If it was poison, why wasn't I affected?"

"Did he say anything before . . . he died?" Emily's voice was rough. She saw Henry wince, and remembered that the cousins had once been close.

"He shouted that I was turning green. Then he fell down dead." Sam choked up and couldn't speak.

"There's more," Emily contradicted him. "Mr. Wentworth, you saw James was beyond help, so you went to your sister and brother-in-law."

"Violet and Charles were overjoyed." His mouth twisted at the memory. "My own sister . . ."

Emily glanced at Henry, wondering how he felt hearing such terrible things about his parents. He met her gaze with a blank look before he turned away.

Sam began to choke up. "Their own nephew was dead, and all they could think of was money."

Emily went on, "So they sent their hired man, Horace, to help you."

Surprisingly, Sam shook his head. "Horace used to work for me years ago. He'd do anything for me." He hesitated, with a sidelong glance at Henry. "Charles and Violet came up with a plan. No one in town was likely to remember James as my nephew-even I barely recognized him. We thought if we changed his appearance he could never be connected to us."

"You used Horace's clothes," Emily said. "And Horace carried the body to the road and put him into your new carriage."

Sam stared at her, dumbfounded. "Yes, G.o.d forgive me. We took him to the pond near the West Cemetery and slid him into the water."

"Why did you pick that pond?" Emily asked.

Sam shrugged. "It was on the road out of town, and no one in our family has any ties there."

"So it was merely a coincidence?" Emily said.

He nodded.

"You hoped he would be mistaken for a tramp who fell and drowned," Henry said.

"Yes," Sam said simply.

"If it weren't for Emily, your plan would have worked," Henry said. Emily thought he sounded almost regretful.

"A vile plan," Emily cried. "How could you let your own nephew be buried in a potter's field, unmarked and forgotten?"

"Charles said he would make an anonymous donation for a funeral." Sam rubbed at his eyes with his dirty palms. "But I don't think he did."

"You are a foolish old man," Emily said.

"I know," Sam said, pushing himself off the log. Henry moved to a.s.sist him, but Sam shook him off. Without saying another word, the old man lumbered off toward home, bits of rotten wood falling from his pants like a trail of breadcrumbs in the forest.

"Well, Emily," Henry said, very formally, "on behalf of my cousin James, I suppose I must thank you. Because of you, he will have the funeral he deserves." He took her hands in his.

Emily stared down at his soft hands that had never known a day's hard labor. She remembered the calluses on James's hands, and how they had marked him as a man who worked for his living. Not a thief. Nor someone who was willing to profit from theft. Slowly she pulled her hands away, and once and for all she stepped back from Henry Langston.

"Nothing is finished," she said in a low voice. "We still don't know how he died."

"You heard Uncle," Henry protested. "He fell down dead. James died of natural causes."

"He was murdered," Emily said. There. The words were spoken and could not be taken back.

"How?" Henry asked. "Uncle drank from the same flask. Emily, I'm grateful for your help, but I can handle things from here. I'll confront my parents."

"And the money?" Emily asked. "What will you do about the money?"

"With James's death, it comes to them anyway," he said. "No harm has been done."

"No harm?" Emily said in disgust. "The apple never falls far from the tree, and its seeds are the next generation of villainy. Your parents violated every rule of decency and betrayed every family tie. Could it be more foul?" She sank to the gra.s.s. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of clever, gallant James. He was worth ten of Henry. He deserved the truth. No matter who got hurt.

"Emily, I'm warning you-it's finished. James will be buried properly, and the Langstons shall leave Amherst forever. That should satisfy you." He stalked off in the same direction as his uncle.

Staring after him, Emily whispered, "You haven't given up all your secrets yet, Henry. Until I find out everything, I won't be satisfied at all."

I Felt a funeral, in my brain,

And mourners, to and fro

Kept treading, treading, till it seemed

That sense was breaking through -

CHAPTER 19.

"They're coming, Vinnie," Emily called. She was perched in the lowest branch of the elm tree in their front yard. Their house presented a sideways face to the road, so visitors to the cemetery were unlikely to notice her. She had been waiting in the tree for more than an hour.

Vinnie was at the front door, waiting for the signal. She went inside to distract their mother while Emily slithered down the tree and ran to the barn. She climbed the ladder to the hayloft and lay on her stomach near the wide window. Usually it was used to load hay into the barn for Jasper and the other animals, but today it was her window on a funeral. Her brother's telescope lay at her side.

The sun was not yet at its zenith, but was steadily rising, bathing the cemetery in a light that put every blade of gra.s.s in sharp relief. The long shadows cast by the marble tombstones shortened steadily as the sun rose.

"It's a lovely day to say good-bye," Emily murmured. As if the deceased would care if the sun shone or if it rained! At moments like this, she hoped that her mother was right and that the good would find a place in heaven.

She put her eye to the telescope. Reverend Colton headed the procession. First to come was the coffin, carried by the s.e.xton and his three sons. Behind them was Mrs. Langston, hanging heavily on Henry's arm. Then Ursula, carrying a demure bouquet and walking with an older man who resembled her and Henry. This must be their father, Charles Langston. Emily examined him with cynical eyes.

Charles Langston dressed well, like the rest of the family, but a shade too fancily for Amherst. He had dark hair, but Emily could make out a bald spot on the top of his head that he had carefully combed over. More interesting was a bruise on his right cheek. Dr. Gridley had mentioned that James's corpse had cuts on his right fist.

"I'll wager every book I own that you settled an account with Mr. Langston," she told the absent James. "I'm glad you hit him . . . but did it get you killed?"

Bringing up the rear was Sam Wentworth, looking smaller than the day before, as if his confessions at the brook had shrunk him.

The procession arrived at the freshly dug grave. Emily approved of the s.e.xton's choice of gravesite, as she had a clear view from her vantage point.

"Can you see?" Emily started at Vinnie's unexpected voice. Vinnie had climbed the ladder, and her head popped up like a chipmunk. "Mother is fast asleep. What can you see?"

"Shhh," Emily said. Vinnie made a face and descended to the barn floor. She focused the telescope on Henry, but his face was as shuttered as an empty house. The coffin was lowered into the ground and Reverend Colton began his eulogy.

Suddenly the reverend jumped out of her view. She pulled back from the eyepiece and blinked at the whole group, suddenly tiny in the distance. They were rushing to Sam, who was clutching his heart. Falling heavily onto his knees, he reached toward Ursula and her mother. Violet Langston began screaming. Emily could faintly hear the words. "His medicine! Ursula, where are Samuel's pills?"

Ursula fumbled at her purse. She found a vial and, trembling, poured several pills into her mother's hands. Violet Langston gave them one at a time to Sam.

Transfixed, Emily watched, leaning out the window toward the scene. After a moment, Sam sat back on the gra.s.s and seemed to be breathing easier. Emily exhaled, too, and only then realized she had been holding her breath.

"Emily, what's going on?" Vinnie called up from the barn a few minutes later. "I can't see from down here."

"Sam had a bad turn," Emily answered. "His heart, I think."

"Is he all right now?"

"I think so. Ursula gave him his medicine. His color is much better."

"Ursula's mother said that she recently began making her uncle's heart medicine."

Vinnie's words sparked a fuse in Emily's brain.

When Emily didn't respond, Vinnie asked again, "Emily, what's happening?"

The new idea firmly lodged in Emily's mind, she lifted the telescope to her eye again. "It looks as though Henry is taking Sam home. The rest of the family is leaving."

"Mary Katherine told me that they are having lunch at the Amherst House with Reverend Colton."

Emily looked up from the telescope and stared at the beams above her head. "How on earth does Mary Katherine know that?" she asked slowly.

"Her sister, Bridget, works for the Langstons."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Emily asked, trying to keep the exasperation from her voice.

"Bridget just began to work there, but she said that the family is packing to go to Europe. She's upset that she already needs to find a new position."

Henry had said he would take his family away. "When are they going?" Emily called.

"Within a week."

"So we don't have much time."

"Father comes back in a few days. Your time is running out anyway."

Emily clambered down the ladder, the telescope under her arm. She shoved it at her sister. "Are you sure they're going to be at the hotel?"

Vinnie nodded.

"Then I need to get into the Langstons' house. Will Bridget be there today?"

"I think so." Vinnie's eyes were full of apprehension.

"That will be useful."

"To us." Vinnie's voice faltered. "I won't let you do this by yourself."

Emily hugged her little sister. "My darling, I'll do this alone, but you can keep lookout for me. If they return early, you can whistle like a . . . bobolink!"

Vinnie laughed nervously. "I don't know what a bobolink sounds like."

Emily briefly considered how to teach the complicated birdsong. "Never mind. We'll make it a crow. I know you can caw!"

The Langstons' house was located on the far side of the College, where many professors lived. The white house was Georgian in style, with an ostentatious garden. Emily shook her head; not one interesting plant in the bunch, although she had to admit the foxgloves and bleeding hearts were beautifully tall and full of blossoms. Emily stationed Vinnie behind an elm tree near the house with a good view of the street.

"Stay here and signal if you see the Langstons returning."

Vinnie nodded and as Emily walked up to the house, she could hear her sister practicing a crow's caw. "Only caw if you see them!" Emily reminded her.